Good Will Toward Men
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Oneshot featuring Tim and Gibbs not slash . Follows vaguely after Once There Was a Snowman. Just a conversation about Tim's family history.


**A/N:** This is sorta kinda a sequel to _Once There Was a Snowman_, but it's not necessary to read it in order to understand what's going on. It's also kinda sorta a Christmas story in that it takes place at that time of year, but that's not really the reason for its existence. Just a oneshot looking more into the fanon I created for Tim McGee. Sam and Naomi McGee aren't actually _in_ this story but they're the driving force behind what happens. This also relies on a line from my favorite scene: the elevator scene in _Twisted Sister_.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS. I am not making money off NCIS. ...and Soylent Green is people!

* * *

**Good Will toward Men  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

"_We say better ten guilty men go free than one innocent be punished...but I know from personal experience it doesn't always work out like that."_

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and looked at the agent sitting across from him. He had known quite a bit about Tim McGee when he had taken the steps to get him transferred onto his team, but for whatever reason hadn't bothered to look into his family background beyond what was listed in his official file.

...before the whole debacle with Sarah and her implication in a murder he hadn't bothered. The conversation with Tim in the elevator had given him more to think about...and a reason to be bothered. It was that "know from personal experience" which was bothering him. At the time, he had written it off as being related to Tim's experience with Metro when Det. Benedict had been killed, but now...

Another look over at Tim gave him no more enlightenment...but this file on Samuel McGee had been illuminating to say the least. Reading between the lines, he could see something in an explanation of why Tim felt wary about the innocent being punished. No wonder he wanted to be in law enforcement...but he did wonder about why Tim had chosen NCIS. Ever since he'd met Tim's parents and got to know them, even a little, he'd been more curious. You wouldn't take Sam McGee for a Navy man. Most career officers weren't so laid back after retirement...particularly not a forced retirement as Sam's had been. It wasn't explicit in the file but it was obvious just from the wording.

Tim glanced up and noticed Gibbs staring at him.

"Something wrong, Boss?"

"He noticed you interfacing, Probie," Tony said. "It's a frightening sight...especially during work hours."

Tim rolled his eyes.

"You finished yet?" Gibbs asked.

"Just about, Boss," Tim said.

It seemed strange to Gibbs, even as he listened with half an ear to Tim explaining the results of his search, that there was no difference in how Tim was acting. He was doing his job as he always did. It was Gibbs who felt differently about it. Did it matter that he understand now? Whatever Tim had felt about the Navy in the past, it certainly didn't cloud his judgment now. In fact, he'd been driven to make sure that he did his job better than required. So...did it matter? Yes. It mattered. It mattered to _him_ because...because he found that he wanted to understand Tim's motivations where he hadn't really cared before.

"Agent Gibbs, I'd like an update on your case, please."

Irritated by the requirement to think about something else, Gibbs looked up at Vance and nodded in resignation. Tim would have to wait.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

By the time he had another chance to think about something other than the case at hand, it was late in the evening and Gibbs assumed that Tim would be gone. His curiosity would have to wait until another day.

"Boss?"

Gibbs looked up, a bit startled if he were honest (although he had long since trained himself not to show any reaction to those rare occurrences).

"What is it, McGee?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you, actually."

"Meaning?"

"You were staring at me earlier today and I wondered if there was something I'd done that needed addressing."

The perfect opening. It was nice when that happened.

"Something you said."

"I said?"

"Yeah. In the elevator."

Tim's face scrunched up in confusion and Gibbs almost smiled. They hadn't been _on_ the elevator at the same time today.

"When?"

"A year or so ago."

The scrunched up expression became more pronounced as Tim tried desperately to figure out what he'd said over a year ago that was a problem now.

"After your sister was accused of murder."

"Um, is it the violation of NCIS policy? I didn't think that would still be a problem now. I mean, I do feel bad about it. I know I should have done things differently, but..."

"You said that you knew from personal experience that it's not always the guilty who get punished."

The scrunched up expression disappeared. Tim now knew exactly where the conversation was going.

"Oh. That."

"Yes. I was reading your dad's file today."

There was a sudden closed-off look on Tim's face. "Why?"

"Curiosity."

"Why?"

"Things I didn't know about you and wanted to."

"Couldn't you have just asked?"

"Yes." Of course, but it didn't do to ask questions of which you didn't have at least an idea of what the answers would be.

"If it was Tony doing it, I'd say that he was being intrusive."

"And I'm not?" Gibbs asked with a slight smile.

Tim shook his head. "No, you are...but you're my boss. I can't say that to you."

"What you said to me in the elevator. It was about your dad, not about you and Metro, wasn't it."

"Yeah."

"You mind explaining now?"

"Does it matter now?"

"Only because I'd like to understand why you're here at NCIS."

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you decide to come here when the Navy is the branch of the military that kicked your dad out?"

"It was worse than kicking him out." There was still a trace of bitterness, even after all this time. Tim had only been seven when his father had left the Navy. Some anger ran pretty deep.

"What was it, then?"

Tim sat down at his desk, resigned to the fact that he had to tell the story. "It was making him the scapegoat when things didn't go exactly right. My dad was the head of a unit, responsible for training men to go into combat."

That's what Gibbs had thought, but he was gratified to find that he was correct.

"I don't know all the details even now, but they were at the end of a training exercise of some kind...classified. There was an accident. Nearly everyone died. My dad almost died and was actually in the hospital for a long time. He lost most of the vision in one eye. Even if they hadn't treated him like dirt, he would have had to retire... at least from anything but a desk job and my dad wouldn't have tolerated that kind of demotion, not in the Navy."

Gibbs was a little surprised at Tim's vehemence. Tim rarely expressed that kind of emotion. ...whether he felt it or not.

"So what _did_ happen?"

"If you read the file, you can probably guess. The military doesn't like facing blows to its image. If it had been known that men were sent out with faulty equipment or bad intel, it would have brought the Navy under too much public scrutiny. My dad was given two options: retire based on his newly-acquired disability or be tried for incompetence leading to the deaths of ten soldiers. He retired."

"He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would accept that kind of deal."

Tim shrugged and scanned the empty bullpen. He stood up and took a few steps toward the windows. "I think that if it hadn't been for Mom and me he _would_ have fought it. Or maybe not. Mom was all for him going all the way and who cared what kind of chaos we had to tolerate. Dad is the one who said no. He did have the McGee image to uphold." Tim's tone became ironic. "There have been McGees in the Navy as long as there's _been_ a Navy. It's almost like a generational sacrifice of the first-born son. We are laid on the altar of the U.S. Navy and given to the service of our country. You have no idea how much of a disappointment I was, especially to Grandpa. Tony's teasing is nothing compared to what Grandpa thought of me when I was a kid."

That tone didn't square with Gibbs' perceptions of Tim's motivations. Now, he felt a need to clarify exactly what was going on in Tim's head because he felt as though he'd been misreading Tim from the beginning.

"Is that why you joined NCIS then? A sense of obligation to your family name?"

Tim smiled, a little cynically, it was true, but it was still a smile. "No, not really. I always felt bad when Grandpa came by, but Mom and Dad encouraged me to do whatever would make me happy."

"Then, why?"

"Can't you guess?" Tim asked, the cynicism fading away.

Gibbs saw that there was not only bitterness, but a small amount of pain, probably because of Tim's relationship with his father. Gibbs sat down and gestured to Tim to do the same. He did so.

"Imagine the little McGee, hearing his parents arguing about what had just happened. I was going to _prove_ that it wasn't Dad's fault...so that the Navy would have to take him back. I was only seven when Dad got hurt. I didn't really understand it all. I just knew that Dad _loved_ being in the Navy. He must have because it took all his time. He never had much time for us, although he gave what he had. We had to move around a lot because of Dad's work. When he couldn't be in it anymore, and he started paying attention to me, I didn't _want_ him to go back to the Navy but I wanted him to be happy. I was going to be a detective and give Dad what I thought he wanted. ...not that it ever actually happened."

"Did you ever try?" Gibbs could see that he didn't really need to ask that question. Tim would have succeeded if he had ever tried.

"No. When I got older, I understood that Dad couldn't go back and then after the accident...well, there didn't seem to be much point. Dad was paralyzed. He couldn't ever be in the Navy again. They wouldn't have allowed it anyway. There's no way that I could ever do what I wanted to do when I was a kid."

"Then, why go for NCIS at all? Sounds like you're still a bit angry."

Tim laughed and stood up, pacing a little bit, although his voice didn't rise at all. That was a relief to Gibbs because it meant that it wasn't something churning deep inside where it would end up being bad for everyone.

"I am angry. In fact, the older I got, the more angry I was because I began to understand why they had done what they did. It was all PR crap, like with Corporal Yost and Petty Officer Dobbs who almost didn't get his posthumous silver star because of how it would look... or Sergeant Wright, that Marine who had all those honors, died a hero but was going to be written off as a nut who fell through the cracks. It doesn't always matter what the truth is. It's how it _looks_. My dad was doing his best with a bad situation. When it failed, rather than admit their fault, they made it into my dad's fault and without evidence how could he win? Besides, he didn't want to dishonor the Navy by dragging their names through the mud."

"So, why NCIS?"

Tim stopped pacing and laughed. "Why? Because I'm too much like my dad. I was raised to be an idealist. I believe in the people who fight in the Navy." He shrugged. "...and I'm a McGee. I think it gets in your blood after so many generations. I wanted to continue the tradition but I couldn't. Grandpa allowed the Navy cops angle as something that wouldn't be dishonorable."

"You saying you don't want to be here? That it's only out of a sense of obligation to your family?"

"No, Boss!" Tim seemed almost alarmed by that interpretation. "I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing than this, anywhere I'd rather be than here. If I can help justice be done and done right, then that's the right thing to do. I hate the men responsible for forcing my dad's decision, but I can't blame the entire Navy for the actions of a few. Did you?"

Gibbs was startled. "What?"

"Back when you left us here. Did you blame the whole establishment because of one decision?"

Now it was Gibbs' turn to think. "I'm not sure. I was disgusted enough to leave."

Tim smiled. "But you couldn't stay away. You came back."

"What about your dad?"

"What about him?"

"How does _he_ feel about all this?"

"Oh, I don't think he really even spends any time on it anymore. He loves his job. Even before his injury he was taking classes when and where he could. It's been more than twenty years. ...but he still loves the Navy. He always will...and I guess that's kind of why I do. I can't help it." Tim smiled a little bashfully at what he'd said. "This is a group I respect, some leaders notwithstanding."

"Well, I think we're lucky to have you."

Tim flushed. "Thanks, Boss. I really am glad to be here. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Mostly." Tim looked at Gibbs with curiosity. "What made you want to know this now, Boss? I don't particularly mind...but it seems strange that you suddenly decided you needed to understand why I was here after six years."

Gibbs stood and grabbed his coat.

"You've been acting a little different the last few days, ever since that snowstorm last week."

Tim stayed sitting. "That wasn't about this."

"What was it then?"

Tim laughed softly. "You and Tony. You always seem to notice the strangest things."

Gibbs hid his surprise at the mention of Tony.

"What was it about?"

"I build a snowman on the first snowfall...used to do it with my dad. It's a little bittersweet, I guess. No matter how far in the past it is, I just can't help regretting it. Maybe I feel guilty about not doing anything."

"Do you _want_ to?"

Again, as so often happened, Tim surprised him by shaking his head. "No. I know there's nothing I can do. If I were to go after that, it wouldn't be about my dad. It would be about me doing what _I_ think is important. Dad won't want this dragged up again. It was hard enough the first time. No, I really have moved past it."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"Mostly. I'm good at holding grudges sometimes, Boss. You, at least, should understand that feeling." Then, Tim's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. "Sorry about that, Boss. It was out of line."

"No more out of line than me snooping around your files."

"Was it that important to you to know what happened?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Why?"

"Because you're a member of my team, McGee. That means that _you_ are important...and worth understanding. I can't really understand unless I take the time to examine what's going on. I should have asked what you meant a long time ago."

"It's okay, Boss. I don't let it affect my work. I promise. I always want to do the best I can."

"It _does_ affect your work, McGee. Just like any person's history affects how they view the world. ...and that's not a problem as long as it doesn't adversely affect the way you do your job."

"Does it?"

"Do _you_ think it does?"

Tim actually gave the question some thought. Then, after a few seconds, he shook his head. "No. I've never wanted not to help someone because of what happened to my dad. I think Dad's devotion to the Navy affects me more than what the Navy did to him."

"Then, it's not a problem."

"Just like that?"

"As long as you're being honest...and I think you are."

Tim smiled.

"You going to sit here all night?"

"Just a little longer, I think. I'll see you tomorrow, Boss."

Gibbs walked toward the elevator but stopped and looked back. Tim was sitting there, alone, looking a little forlorn if he were honest. He found that he didn't want to leave Tim sitting alone on the last weekend before Christmas.

"Hey, McGee."

Tim jumped a little. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Just come on." He gestured and waited while Tim got up and put on his coat.

"Where, Boss?"

Gibbs chose not to answer. He didn't normally bring guests to this. Abby had been. Ducky had. ...but mostly it was his own private time to remember what Christmas was about. Tim seemed to need some inner peace, however, and he could share it once. Gibbs drove to a nearby church with a sign declaring that there was a nativity reenactment going on that night. Tim said nothing but followed, dropping a few dollars into the donation basket without pausing. They sat down beside each other and watched as children, ranging in age from three to about sixteen, presented the nativity. Famous sacred carols were interspersed within the presentation. Tim said absolutely nothing but he had a strange smile on his face as he watched. He applauded with the rest of the crowd and walked out with an enigmatic expression that made Gibbs proud.

"Well, McGee?"

"Thanks, Boss. Could you give me a ride back to my car?"

"Sure."

They rode back to NCIS and as Tim got out, he paused.

"I needed that, Boss."

"I thought you might."

"'On earth peace, good will toward men.'" Tim nodded and then closed the door.

Gibbs watched him walk away and got the feeling that even though he'd seen more of Tim than he'd ever bothered to search for in the past, he still didn't really know the core of Tim McGee. It was clear that Tim, for all his loving upbringing, had his own battles.

Gibbs counted himself fortunate to have Tim on his side.

"Merry Christmas, Tim," he said to the departing figure.

FINIS!


End file.
